A Rude Awakening
by WhiteWolf753753
Summary: Sam and John are fighting AGAIN. Dean leaves without saying anything. Can Sam and John stop fighting long enough to save Dean? Or is it too late? Hurt/Dean Guilty/Sam and John. Not a DeathFic
1. Chapter 1

**Note: This is my first fanfic. Yes I am new so please be dearies. I wrote it with a fever. So don't hate me _please. _:)**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Alas I am too poor. **

**Warning: maybe some cursing if I feel like it (maybe not) NOT A DEATHFIC Otherwise nada cause I let others do the dirty work. :)**

The sky was a continued grey and the rain seemed eternal. This was the third day of its non-stop and incessant pouring. It didn't bother Dean though. His dad and his brother's constant fighting had kinda spoiled the mood anyway. The grey sky and rain were welcome in his book. During the latest fight, Sam had gotten into their father's face about how he was wrong and Sam was right. Same old fight, different subject.

"So if you say so, you expect me and Dean to just do whatever you say without a word? I don't think so! I mean if you said break out of some camp in Siberia, trek through the cold, desert, and Himalayas, we should just do it? What do you take us for," Sam prodded at their father.

"Yes Sam. Ok! Jeez it's like talking to a three year old. Just do what I say, ok? Dean does. Why can't you," John rebutted.

It became increasingly often that they would just use him in their own arguments like he was just some noun that they could throw in each other's faces. No one bothered to ask what he thought anyway.

Then there was his dad's mention of the one thing that Dean never screwed up. Following orders.

About another fifteen minutes in, Dean decided he'd heard enough. So he got up and walked right out the door without looking back. They were both so intent on their bickering that no one had noticed he'd left.

He got in his Impala and drove. It was mind numbing and somewhat relaxing to grip the steering wheel and just go. AC/DC's 'Highway to Hell' blasting through the car just making it that much better. Even though Dean wasn't the one fighting, his father and brother really drained his energy when they did. Driving his baby, though, made him feel like the energizer bunny.

It had to be late because there was a serious lack of cars on the usually busy road. The town was out of the way, but the scenic drive was a commonly driven path during the day. He checked his watch. It was two in the morning, which meant the fighting had been going on for at least an hour now. The only people out right now were the drunks and the reckless ones like him. Driving gave Dean a sense of freedom. He just needed to get away sometimes. Nothing would matter, just the open road.

His phone rang shrill and loud, piercing the tranquility of his thoughts. It was his dad, no doubt going to berate him for leaving without telling someone. Dean was surprised his father even noticed he was gone; let alone stopped arguing long enough with his brother to call. He wasn't twelve anymore. Dean didn't need to check in. He was twenty-four; a grown man, but he knew the dangers. His dad would always be concerned for their safety, just like a mother bear.

"Hello," he droned into the speaker, immediately skipping the pleasantries; his father probably wouldn't have taken that path anyway. He just really wasn't in the mood to be yelled at. John's marine like voice shouted into his ear and boy was he pissed. Just his luck. "Dean where are you! Come home right-"

There was a sudden flash of light and Dean slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. The Ford pickup had been speeding at a ridiculous rate and smashed into the driver's side of the Impala.

With the added force of the impact and the present forward momentum, the car flipped and rolled over to the guard-rail. The rusted rail groaned with the extra strain. Then in the blink of an eye, it buckled and sent the classic car rolling down a steep cliff-like hill.

By the time the Impala (if it could be called that anymore) came to a standstill, the frame was twisted, every window was smashed, and there was the crackling sound of a dying engine.

"Dean? DEAN? Are you still there? What happened son? Are you ok? Talk to me," John's now panicked voice came through the cracked phone on the floor. There was a string of cursing in the distance and then John shouted, "Sam shut up and get your coat! We need to find your brother!" John hung up, feeling he had severed the last connection to his eldest. It was gonna be a long night.

**Please review and tell me what you think. I have ideas for the next chap. but I would love some opinions. All criticism is welcome!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to all who read, reviewed, favorite, and followed. I love you all duckies! Also not betaed. It's all my fault. :)**

**(I forgot to mention last chapter that this is pre-series. Sorry)**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Still too poor.**

**Warning: Mildish gore if your sensitive to that thing (then you probably shouldn't be reading hurt/comfort). :)**

Sam had been ready to continue his incessant bickering with his father as John had cut him off to call Dean. He wanted to be a lawyer and Dean said he would be real good at it. He had opened his mouth again to start shouting, but then shut it promptly as he saw the look of fear on his father's battle-hardened face. "Dad what is it? Is he ok? What's going on? Dad talk to-"

"Sam shut up and get your coat! We need to find your brother!"

Sam moved like a whirlwind grabbing everything he needed. Then tucking his gun in his waistband just in case, he had a moment to think. His eyes grew wide when he remembered that his brother had taken their only source of transportation. "Dad how are we gonna get to him," Sam asked, sheer panic lacing his words.

"Take a breath Sam. I just called a cab and it'll be here in about three minutes. It sounded like your brother was in a car crash, so we're gonna check the main road first. Grab the first aid kit just in case."

His father was giving him orders again, but this time Sam didn't mind. This time Dean was in trouble and everything else could, no, would wait.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

He didn't even remember getting into the cab until they were well on their way to his brother. Sam couldn't even remember waiting. Dean was all he could think about. It was obviously his and his dad's fault that this happened. Dean wouldn't have left if they has just stopped their pointless argument. Yes he was admitting that it was pointless. Knowing Dean he would find some twisted way to make it his own fault and carry the blame. It made Sam cringe inwardly that they had simply let him do it and suffer all this pressure alone. He had a really bad feeling in his stomach as the cab had been chasing the road for a good twenty minutes with no sign of Dean or the Impala. Then his heart sunk as he saw the smoking engine of a Ford and crushed pieces of Dean's baby. "STOP THE CAR!"

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

John threw the man his money and shouted at him to call 911 as he and Sam bolted from the cab. He cursed himself for not making sure that his son was within his reach. Now he could very likely be dead. What kind of a father was he? Ordered Sam to check the driver of the Ford and look for the Impala while he was at it, John surveyed the wreck. It looked like the Ford's power would have flipped the car but it couldn't be seen. He was a marine for God's sakes. If John couldn't find his son, then he didn't deserve to be a father. With renewed determination, he followed the crushed glass to the guard-rail.

"DEAN!"

Sam looked up. The driver of the Ford was alive, not that he really cared at the moment. The guy had very likely killed his brother and for that he could kill him. The smell of alcohol was pretty strong from inside the truck and at that Sam felt his blood boil. It was only the fear for his brother and the concern of finding him that kept Sam from full on strangling the driver. Only, there was no sign of the Chevy. Then he heard his dad's desperate shout. The guard-rail looked like someone had gone right through it. He suddenly felt sick with realization as he ran to John's side.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

They raced down the steep hill. Both were surefooted with a strong will. There were divots where the earth had been gouged out and overturned. Several bushes had been torn up and roots were exposed to the frigid and wet air.

Sam was on the verge of hyperventilating. He couldn't calm down, but it didn't matter. Dean did.

John's eyes were huge and watery. As he reached the car he didn't bother to survey the damage. He ripped open the passenger door. The sight he was greeted with made his stomach churn.

His boy was laid out across the front bench seat pooling blood into the interior's upholstery. He knew Dean wouldn't be too happy when he woke up.

Sam had opened the rear passenger door and was looking down on his brother. He obviously hadn't been wearing a seatbelt and had smashed into the six different sides of the car multiple times.

Dean was a mess. There was a long gash from his forehead to his cheek. The bones in his left arm were crushed which had saved his ribs from being completely shattered at the initial impact. Though, they were still quite nastily broken. Everything was covered in cuts, bruises, and broken glass. The most worrisome injury was a large piece of glass, roughly the size of a football, protruding from his midsection.

"Move him onto his right side. We don't want him to wake up and choke if there's internal bleeding. Which there probably is," John said, his voice small. They rolled him over to the edge of the seat with a crunching sound. Immediately, John was sick. He turned from the crushed Impala and retched violently, weeping bitter tears.

He cried for his son. For the stupid fight that landed him here. The harsh words John had spoken before the crash. Would he die remembering those last words and a father that could care less? When was the last time John had said he was proud of him? That he loved him? He cried for all the weight he put on his son. From a broad spectrum starting with responsibility and ending with blame. He failed his son. Dean deserved so much better. He could've had a life and been at the least bit happy. He needed John now more than ever.

He shakily turned back to his boys. Sam wide eyed and Dean unresponsive. He wanted to pull them into a hug so badly. His affection always came and went at the worst of times.

"Dad," Sam said urgently. The one thing they had overlooked was to check if his brother was breathing. It had all happened so fast. It just seemed like he would be. After all he was the invincible hero to Sam and he couldn't die from a freaking car crash. It was insulting.

"Dad," Sam said again. Calmly, yet firmly, "He's not breathing."

**I promise this is not a DeathFic. Sorry for the cliffhanger, but I really want to know what to do next. Please review. It would make me a very happy guppy. I would love to hear what you think.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for all the love, it keeps me writing. You duckies are awesome! **

**Disclaimer: When I rule the world they will be mine. Just not yet :)**

**Warning: Some cursing. Just a wee bit**

John looked like a wild man. His eyes were violent and determined. In one swift motion Dean was on his back again and John was giving him air.

This time Sam couldn't hold back his tears.

He pounded desperately, hoping that a breath might take hold and get his heart beating. "Come on," he begged his son. "Don't you leave me! Not now! Not after everything! Breathe damn it! That's an order!"

Sam was flat out bawling as John tried to encourage Dean to breathe.

John had been compressing and breathing rhythmically for about ten minutes now, until there was a small but unmistakable sound of sirens in the distance.

"Oh thank God," he said in-between breaths. He knew it was still far from over, but the sound of approaching emergency vehicles gave him hope.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Sam had been counting the breaths and compressions as if his life depended on it.

'God it's just not fair.' He knew that this should never have happened. He felt like the world's worst brother at the moment and couldn't imagine what their father must be feeling at the moment. If Dean came back... no not if... when his brother came back he would make sure Dean never forgot how important he was to Sam.

Who else would tell him to do his homework, or give him advice on how to talk to girls. Dad sure as hell wouldn't. Sam would never admit it, but his brother had some damn good advice when it came to Brianna Halden. Sam would never have even gotten close. But like he said, Sam would never openly admit that.

He placed a comforting hand on his brother's knee. Looking deep into his pale face, Sam knew he would make it. He had to. He didn't care if that was selfish, he wanted his brother.

"Come on you selfish bastard. Dad and I need you. Come on."

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

John felt a pang of guilt. Dean was anything but selfish, but by God if that's what he needed to hear to come back, John would oblige.

He began to get worried about continuing his CPR as he bent down for another breath. Then his heart fluttered with hope.

There was a sound like sandpaper grating on a stone as his son finally drew in the smallest of breaths. It was a breath nonetheless.

"Good Dean. That's it buddy. You breathe. John pulled Dean into a gentle hug and cried tears of joy and pain into his hair. They all sat in silence as John rocked his son just as he had when he was three.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

The paramedics arrived and began extracting his brother, much to Sam's chagrin. He knew it was his best chance, he just didn't want to leave his brother's side. Never again.

His father didn't seem to share in Sam's thinking though. He fought against the hands that were pulling away the shattered body of his son.

"Sir. Sir please," the younger of the three paramedics asked. It was as if he hadn't heard them. He had eyes only for Dean.

Finally the paramedic gave up trying to hold John back as Dean was lifted onto a gurney. "Is he gonna be ok? I preformed CPR about twenty minutes to get him breathing. HIs name is Dean."

Sam had never heard his father more scared or child-like in his life. It was like he craved comfort from others to tell him it was ok.

"Thank you sir, but please stand back and let me do my job. Dean? Dean can you hear me?" the paramedic asked shining a pen light into his brother's eyes. "Lenny. Thomas. Get this guy loaded up, he needs a hospital immediately."

The paramedic who had first been working on Dean, seemed to take pity on his father and fill him in. "Sir, your son is unresponsive, but stable. He needs a hospital immediately. There is severe internal bleeding, spine trauma, and his respiratory arrest is a sign of a punctured or collapsed lung. I'm sorry, but we need to go. NOW."

The ambulance sped off in a blur of lights and sirens, carrying a most precious cargo.

"Come on Sam. Let's see if we can get someone to give us a ride to the hospital. I need to call Bobby to get the car. He should only be a few hours away."

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSNSPN

John felt raw inside. What kind of a father was he?

It was a long night that had no intention of ending any time soon.

**Please review. You know you want to. :) Things will get drastic before they get better. I may bring Bobby in soon. Maybe :) (I am thinking about ending this next chapter. Tell me what ya think) **


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you to all of you duckies for your support in my first story! Also a special thanks to DamonFan1300 for the suggestions. Sorry this wasn't up sooner, but being sick doesn't really make writing easy. Sorry if this sucks, I have my reasons :)**

**Disclaimer: (sigh) still... not mine**

**Warning: Mild cursing (mostly Bobby (duh))**

It had been four hours since he and Sam had made it to the hospital. Four hours that Dean had been in surgery.

It was seven in the morning, right about the time Dean would be waking up on a non-training day to make breakfast. John would be lying if he said that seeing his son sprawled and lifeless on the bench-seat, hadn't sent daggers of fear and desperation, flying into his heart. He wanted to promise his son that he would never fight with Sam again and that it would all be ok. That of course, would be another lie. So he sat in an uncomfortable and tension-strung silence with his youngest.

John had called Bobby and asked if he could pick up the car and then come to the hospital. Unsurprisingly, Bobby had demanded what had happened, was anyone hurt, and if any spare weapons were need.

"We're fine Bobby. I'll tell you what happened when you get here."

"You idjits sure have a funny definition of the word fine... I'll see you at 0900 hours. I'm coming for answers John. Ya hear?"

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

"Mr. Williams?"

"Yes. Is my son ok?"

John was sick and tired of sitting around in the sterile waiting areas with nothing to look at but white walls. He'd needed connection and if he couldn't have that, at the very least an update. It sure as hell wasn't the first time he was in the hospital for himself or for one of his boys, but this was different. None of them had ever been admitted for anything other than a paranormal attack and none of them had ever stopped the simple task of breathing.

"I won't lie to you Mr. Williams-"

"Please, call me John."

"I won't lie to you John, Dean is in pretty bad shape. The impact crushed his left arm and six of his ribs, which led to a punctured lung and his respiratory arrest. The puncture wound wasn't as bad as it could've been. There was some initial blood loss and internal bleeding, but nothing vital was hit. There are also several small fractures from the rolling and minor cuts. Few of which needed stitches. He has a severe concussion and what we believe to be mild amnesia. He probably won't remember much of the crash, so please be sensitive in that area. If he is overexerted or emotionally spent in his state, it could cause problems."

John stared open mouthed. It seemed unreal. All of it had to be a nightmare. He knew it couldn't be. It was the same with Mary's death. He had spent the first week trying to convince himself it wasn't true. He needed to be strong and if not for Sam, then for Dean. God knows he needed someone to take care of him for once.

"When can I see him?"

"Well we have hi in recovery from surgery, but we'd like to keep him carefully monitored. It should only be a couple of hours. Why don't you and your son go get some food or something. Dean will be ok right here."

And with that the doctor left through the doors separating him from his eldest.

"God I didn't think it would be so bad," Sam spoke, breaking the silence.

"Me either kiddo. Let's try to hold off on fighting... for Dean's sake."

"Sure thing."

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

An hour had passed without another word and the day seemingly wore on, that is until Bobby got there.

"What'd you idjits get yourselves into this time?" He'd gotten there about eleven and was obviously none too pleased.

"Dean got hit by a drunk driver about nine hours ago."

"Well that explains the mess I had to clear away. Why he was he out drivin' so late? And where were both of you?"

John looked to Sam who looked down at the floor like it was splitting apart.

"Well?"

"Listen Bobby," John began, "Sam and I kinda got into a fight and-"

"Dammit boys! Can't you think for one minute?"

"Bobby I-"

"Save it son. Can't you see that Dean don't like it when you boys is always fightin? Why else do you think he left? Hell I have half-a-mind to throttle you both!"

"Excuse me?" a small nurse had walked up to the circle of fighting men.

"WHAT!" they all yelled causing her to stumble back a few steps.

"Um.. Mr. Williams... Your son Dean... he's awake."

**Please review and tell me what you think. It would make me very happy duckies and I promise there will be at least one more chapter. :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Again sorry this took so long, school is a pain in the butt! (Story of my life...) Thank you for all of your patience and support of this story duckies. I love you all.**

**Disclaimer: If they were mine... well... I wouldn't be writing this. :)**

**Warning: Nothing that hasn't been said before.**

John's heart skipped a beat. His son was awake. God. It would've been when they were all fighting.

The nurse led the trio through the heavy doors and down seemingly endless corridors. After about two minutes they stopped outside room _216._

The nurse held up a hand, preventing anyone to pass. "Mr. Winchester, I would like to remind you that your son is still in a critical condition. He is awake. Which is a good sign, but the damage is extensive."

"I'm sure it's nothing we can't handle. He's pretty damn stubborn when he puts his mind to it."

"I understand, but the doctor has made it specifically clear that he is not to be stressed or endure elevated heart-rate. So little to no questions ok? The cranial and spinal damage are touchy at best and the slight amnesia can become a problem with these factors. You need to be prepared sir."

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Sam felt his confidence dwindle. He'd had no doubts that everything would be back to normal within a couple of months or so. And not that he was discrediting that notion entirely, there was just no guarantee and nothing to soothe his fears.

Sam was feeling guilty deep within himself. He hadn't told anyone, not even Dean, especially Dean. He'd been contemplating leaving for Stanford.

Everything was ready. Sam had been accepted a few months before and had only needed to leave.

Except Sam couldn't leave, at least not yet. And especially not now.

His gut clenched at the resurfacing of an image he had tried his hardest to repress. The image of his broken brother lying so still in a pool of his own blood. A freaking pool!

The nurse's tirade hadn't helped with his trip down memory lane and specifically his guilt track.

He slipped into an unreadable and neutral mask. A trick well learned from his brother. His brother. Sam knew he would need to be strong for Den now more than ever. Only when he didn't need to be, he would leave.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

The nurse had insisted on entering first and waking his son while explaining what was going to happen. Something about a sudden reaction to his family being detrimental to his health and what not.

It didn't matter how many times Dean had been in the hospital before, the sight before John would be permanently burned into his brain. Forever.

Dean was propped up on multiple pillows and was about as grey as the sheets that were covering him. His entire left arm was wrapped and in a sling, effectively pinning it to his chest. There was a stiff black brace down the lower half of his back. The rest of him was covered in bandages, stitches, and non to serious cuts and bruises.

"I'm going to get the doctor, so he can come discuss further steps with your family."

The atmosphere lightened as the nurse left and the three took seats around Dean's bed.

"Hey Ace. How you feelin?"

Dean's brow furrowed and he looked around the room, as if the answer were written on the walls.

"I don't remember." Dean looked like he was about to cry and the sight damn near broke their hearts. "I'm sorry."

"Dean-"

"It's ok man. Don't worry about it." Sam cut in with a warning look at his father.

"I think it was raining. You and Sam were fighting." At this Bobby glared at the both of them and shook his head. "I left and got in the car. And then... then..."

The heart monitor was beeping faster and faster. Dean's breath became shallow pants as he tried to remember.

"Calm down son. It's ok. Dean?"

Dean's eyes were wide with fear as it became harder and harder to breath. He tried to sit up, but fell back with a cry of pain. Blood spreading onto the sheets.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

The next minutes were a blur. A medical team rushed into the room and pushed them all aside.

Sam hadn't really caught much of what was said after that. Something like, "He won't calm down. We need to sedate him." And, "He pulled some stitches. Let's get him back to the OR and make sure there's no more internal bleeding."

As if it wasn't scary enough, his brother started shaking.

"Shit! He's stating to seize. Let's go."

And just as soon his brother was gone again.

**Please review. I live to make my stories better. I'm done picking on Dean... for now. :) More to come soon. **

**Also, to all you Sam fans. Sorry if I made him seem like a total A-hole, but I need a reason for him to go to Stanford. (I still love you) :D**


	6. Chapter 6

**Happy Shiny Things to you all dearies! Sorry about the lateness of the update. I had testing and doctors appointments galore. yay. I felt bad, so I whipped in between my homework to give this to you guys, so sorry if it's rushed. And sucks. I love brotherliness. It's so gushy and yay! :) Soooooo excited for Meta - Fiction tonight! Anyone... Anyone... ok**

John cursed the world that their lives couldn't be just a little easier, kicking the wall for good measure. It couldn't get any worse could it?

Wrong. Things could get much, much worse.

"What the hell is wrong with dad? Did you see what you just did to him? The doctor even warned us! I don't get you!"

"Shut up Sam! I need to know what happened, how he is, and how soon we can haul ass. The last thing I need is a bunch of cops crawling around on top of this. If I can't even talk to my own son, what makes you think a couple of black and whites will be able to?"

"I can't believe you two!" John and Sam turned to Bobby who was a shade of red that didn't even seem possible. "No wonder that boy took a drive. You boys are worse than squirrels with nothin' left for the winter. The least you could do is hold off right now Sam." Bobby's voice cracked on the last few words.

"The only way I know how to stop is to leave."

"Real mature Sam. Where ya gonna go?"

"John." Bobby had the low throat-ed warning that usually spoke volumes to Dean.

"Bobby-"

"Save it! Both of you shut yer traps and take a walk. Away from each other and I'll let you know when you can come back."

"But-"

"John, NOW!"

They ducked their heads like kicked puppies and trudged out the door.

Damn Winchesters.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Dean had been released from surgery about fifteen minutes after John came back, and three before Sam. More or less, he looked like a deflated balloon. The doctor came back with his professional mask, intact.

There was a lengthy discussion about how the latest attack had done some damage and that Dean had fallen into a coma.

"It's nothing to be overly concerned about. We'll be keeping him well monitored. Alright? I can honestly say I don't know when he'll wake up, but we have extremely high hopes that he will."

All three paled at this.

Sam couldn't seem to hold back the open mouthed gape at the doctor, or the unbidden tears in his eyes.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

The next few hours passed by in uncomfortable silence.

Sam was in the chair next to Dean's bed, holding his brother's hand like a lifeline. John stared out the window and scowled. Bobby stood in the corner of the room assessing the whole situation.

Definitely not a Kodak moment.

The silence was finally broken by John, who seemed to dominate the room and forget why they were there.

"Where are you going to go Sam?"

"What?"

"If you leave, where are you going to go?"

"Really dad? You wanna do this right now?"

"Answer the damn question Sam."

The air was silent except for the beeping of the machines keeping Dean alive. Sam looked to Bobby for support and then his father. He was surprised to see Bobby waiting for the answer, instead of stepping in as Dean's usual job of the peacemaker.

Taking a huge breath and then blowing it out, Sam replied, "Stanford."

"What?"

"Stanford dad. I got accepted. I'm gonna go."

John's eyes narrowed and his voice got deathly low.

"You aren't going anywhere without my say-so Sam!"

"This is what I'm trying to get away from. I'm tired of our fights, you constantly bossing me around, and hunting. I never wanted this. You never even asked me what I wanted. Hell, you never even asked Dean. Don't you care?"

"Don't turn this on me Sam. Hunting is our life. You just-"

"No dad. Hunting is your life."

Before John could say anything else Sam stood up and walked over to Bobby. "I'm sorry. I love you Bobby."

"So just like that? Your gonna leave. Your gonna leave Dean. Do YOU even care?"

"Do you?" Sam turned to his father, eyes cold and unforgiving.

He leaned down and grasped Dean's hand. "I am so sorry brother. I gotta go. You know why. Maybe when your better, you can come too."

Sam leaned and pressed a kiss to his brother's forehead, as a tear rolled down his cheek.

"If you walk out that door Sam, don't you ever, ever come back."

And in a moment, his youngest was gone.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Deep down inside, Dean was yelling to his brother. Then his dad's words stopped him cold. His world was broken, because even in a coma he knew Sam had walked out the door and he hadn't looked back. The door was shut in his face. An it would remain shut, for a few years...

_~~~Fin~~~_

**That's it everyone. Thank you for the support. Much love duckies! I will probably be writing an AU pretty soon, so for those of you interested keep your eyes open. I shall now go back to homework, Sherlock Holmes soundtracks, and gluten-free corn-dogs! **


	7. Chapter 7

**Ok this isn't another chapter sorry. Although I did say 'the end' duckies. So I have had many requests to continue this story or write a sequel. I am considering it because I love all of you and I actually do read your reviews. Opinions are welcome. I am asking all of you if that's what you want soooo tell me what you want. I am a writer that caters to the people, dearies. :) **


	8. Chapter 8

**So I am continuing my story. Thank you to all those who reviewed and told me what they wanted. This is for all of you dearies! :) **

**Disclaimer: I don't own nothing. Only my very active imagination... :)**

**Warnings: Same**

Dean woke with a start, covered in cold sweat. He'd been dreaming about Sam again. It had been two years since he'd left. His nightmares plagued him about his time in a coma and waking up to find Sam gone. He would dream Sam was taunting him or that his baby brother was in trouble. He'd dreamed that Sam would be walking home from a class only to be unprepared and attacked by a black dog. It was the fifth time and the dream hadn't changed. Obviously Sam would be ok. Right? He had to be because he could still clearly remember what happened after he woke up from his deep state of unconsciousness.

* * *

He woke up to the bitter taste in the air of antiseptic. The smell was starting to make him a little queasy. Then Dean realized that he was all alone. _Had he only dreamed that Sam had left him? And if that were true then where were Dad and Bobby? _

He was sore all over. It was getting a little frustrating to not be able to move. Sure he could, but with all the debilitating casts and braces, it seemed next to impossible. _Screw This! _He leaned forward gingerly and pulled out his IV, ripped off the monitoring cords, and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

_God what happened? I think Sam left. Was I on a hunt? Is that why I'm in the hospital?_

He meticulously pushed himself off the bed and stood on wobbly knees. As soon as he put his full weight on his legs, they buckled. If it weren't for the chair beside the bed, Dean would've been toast.

He'd managed to get to the door after what seemed like hours of leaning on things and slowly pushing forward.

He leaned heavily against the door, sweat pouring down his face. Then he heard it.

His Dad and Bobby left his room so they could argue.

"John stop it. No one knew that, that was what Sam wanted. If ya ask me, we shoulda known."

"I don't care Bobby. He can't just leave!"

"Yes he can John. You can't keep him glued to you all the time."

"Dean hasn't left."

"He hasn't had a choice John!"

"Well he won't get one!"

_I'm still being used as a pawn in an argument. Will it never end?_

Dean reached for the door handle, forgetting that the only thing holding him up was the door, and pushed it open.

Bobby couldn't believe John's behavior. He was acting and thinking like a kid. Before he could tell him that though, Dean's door opened and he came tumbling out.

"Shit," both men yelled in unison as Dean fell into Bobby's arms.

* * *

"What were you thinking boy!"

"Sorry," Dean wheezed, "I thought I was alone.

Both John and Bobby looked at each other with guilty expressions.

"How much of that did you hear?"

"Enough."

"Huh. Well you did just get out of a coma, but you seem ok enough to leave to me. You gotta promise me that you'll let us help Dean."

Bobby gave him a 'no-bullshitting' look, that made Dean cringe a little.

"Fine. Fine."

* * *

Soon after, things had gotten worse. Bobby and John had taken Dean to the salvage yard to recover. John kept getting more and more restless, until Bobby finally told him to leave and just go do some hunting. As soon as Dean was well again, he did the same. Now he was in some motel room up in Montana. Each night was getting to him to the point where Dean didn't want to sleep anymore. He was a hunter not a damn pansy!

If the nightmares were a warning, he would heed it. If they weren't then maybe after he proved, they would stop.

Dean made up his mind. It had been too long. It was time to go see Sammy...

**Please review or PM me because I would love to hear what you think and any suggestions. I will continue... After all I think we all agree he needs to see Sammy again. :) Sorry for the shortness, but I need ideas for about how to approach Dean's, Sammy issue. Until next chapter duckies! :) For those of you who are interested, I have a new story up called The Desolation of John. Cheesy I know :D**


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry to all of you who saw this and were like hey another chapter! Alas duckies it is not. Sorry about that and I will do my best to keep author's notes to a minimum. **

**I have requests to keep the story going, but I need input. I don't care if you review or PM me, but I need to hear what you guys want next. I am not a psychic like Sam and I can't read your minds, so push the review or PM button. Do it! :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello everyone! I am alive. So thanks to everyone for their reviews, favorites, and follows! You guys are super encouraging! I will also apologize for the lateness of my chapters. Life has been interesting to say the least. But hey, only 9 more days of school!**

**Also note: Dean is NOT psychic. Just call it a big brother spidey senses :)**

**Disclaimer: Some day... It will all be mine! hahahahaha!**

**Warnings: Maybe some cursing. If I get around to it. :)**

Dean had been driving for 13 hours straight to get to California. To see the sign welcoming him to Palo Alto had him shivering under the 3 layers he was wearing. He could pretend like he understood why Sam left, but in truth he could never know. Nor could he describe how deep the hurt was that it had caused him. He knew that seeing Sam wasn't going to be easy. Though, he'd never really expected it to be.

Rain began to steadily fall with a pitter-patter on the windshield of a borrowed car from Bobby. The Impala was still in need of a fix up and Bobby had promised that she'd be 'fit for a Winchester' again. But Dean hoped to God that he wouldn't have to keep driving the piece of shit he was currently.

Soon he had parked just outside the campus grounds of Stanford. The school seemed to just shout "geek-boys welcome!" Dean knew he looked like a total stalker, but he decided to just wait it out to see Sam. After all, it was just a stupid dream right?

A few classes had passed with no sign of Sam and the pounding in Dean's chest grew. Sam was old enough to take care of himself. He sure had grown fast though.

* * *

_The bell had rung and Dean was waiting in his usual place for Sammy. It wasn't like his little brother to be late, even if he was only five. He soon spotted the brown moppy head running toward him._

_"Hi Dean! Guess what! Guess what! Guess what!" he was squealing while holding a paper behind his back._

_"What is it squirt?"_

_"I got a hundred on my paper," he said, proudly holding up a crayon drawing with a shiny sticker on it._

_"That's great kid," Dean said while ruffling his hair, "What is it?"_

_"Well the teacher said draw a picture of what you wanna be in a hundred years." Sam was waving his chubby hands wildly to emphasize his point. "I drewed myself as a doctor."_

_"Wow! That's cool Sammy."_

_"Cause you and Daddy get hurt a lot and I gonna fix you!"_

_Dean looked away, almost guilty that Sam had taken such large notice._

_"What do you wanna be in a hundred years Dean?"_

_"Dead."_

_"Deeeeeean." Sam was crossing his arms and pouting with his lips stuck out._

_Dean just chuckled and walked home with his little brother. Little did he know how many times those words could've rung true for both of them._

* * *

The steady rain soon bled into a shower, and then a torrent. _Please be fine Sam. Please be fine. You know what? Screw this! _He pulled his inherited leather jacket tighter around himself, stepped into the rain, and closer to his fears.

The rain was getting heavy. Dean couldn't even see the Impala anymore, and the water was soaking him. Then just like the memory the moppy brown hair was making it's way toward him.

"Sam!"

Dean heard a muffled shout of his name and began running toward it. The shape grew and grew into his sasquatch. _Chick-flick be damned! _He grabbed his little (but not so little brother) and pulled him into a hug. _Nightmares are a bitch._

A million unspoken things swirled through the air. The sorries, the whys, and the hurt, all washed away in that one moment. If anything the hug grew tighter and conveyed all that needed to be said. Everything could, would be ok._  
_

"You really here?" Sam muffled into Dean's shoulder.

"Ya Sammy. I'm here."

**Ok I hope you liked it. Sorry about the shortness, but it was hard to end happily and well. So I think this is the end (but we all know what happened last time). Thank you to all of you who have supported me in this fic. I love you duckies! I'm am moving onto better things! :)**


End file.
